


Pull me under

by promisingahurricane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Attraction, Bad Jokes, Darkness Around The Heart, Implied Sexual Content, Innuendo, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Possessive Behavior, Roughness, Snarky Stiles, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Stiles is a Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/promisingahurricane/pseuds/promisingahurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles snarks at Peter after another plan to catch a Fae goes wrong. Peter is not in the mood to play. Until he suddenly is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull me under

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, wrote this as celebration for gaining 100 followers on
> 
> [Tumblr](http://promising-a-hurricane.tumblr.com/)
> 
> , just rewrote some small things. Apparently I'm stuck on this whole wet 'n cold topic recently. Hope you enjoy nonetheless.

They returned to the Loft drenched and shivering. Well, Stiles did, the wolf of course didn’t. He just looked like an angry, very wet cat. Or rather… dog. Stiles might have smiled at the sight if he weren't currently _freezing_.

“I told you it was a dumb idea to corner it at the lake”, Stiles shot at Peter, his teeth already chattering from the cold crawling through his body. The tips of his fingers were numb as he fumbled on the zipper of his hoodie until he finally ignored the damn thing and just pulled it over his head.

The two of them, since Stiles did the best research and Peter knew most about monsters, had reluctantly worked out a plan together earlier that day to catch the newest creature that terrorized Beacon Hills.

Of course everything went just as planned and in the end the Fae had lured them where it wanted them instead of the other way around. Which resulted in them being pulled into the water and struggling for their lives like usual. Fun times.

  
The rest of the pack had luckily remained on the shore and somehow managed to catch the creature (yes, catch. Scott didn't want to kill it) and was now occupied with getting it to Deaton without having to explain to someone what the hell they were transporting in the Sheriff’s son’s jeep. For once, Stiles had happily obliged when Derek told him to leave first, murmuring something about hypothermia. The Zombiewolf had joined him, although he was considerably less in danger of freezing to death.

“If I were to put my dick in your mouth, would that finally shut you up sweetheart?”, Peter retorted in a sweet and calm voice while heading towards the couch.

Despite his wish that that was an actual possibility, Stiles rolled his eyes, already used to the older man’s insinuating ways and tried toeing his shoes off. It took him a few tries, since he couldn’t really feel his feet right now and was _kind of_ distracted by the gorgeous asshole in front of him pulling his wet V-neck over his head and revealing the glorious (and wet, oh my god _wet_ ) body underneath.

His eyes wandered further down to the sinfully tight jeans Peter was already unbuttoning. He had no idea how he even managed to put them _on_ and now he was wondering how he would ever be able to peel them off in their current state of being absolutely drenched, so he decided it was absolutely legitimate to keep on watching. The simple answer was: claws.

As they were ripped apart on the skin of the werewolf, Stiles finally forced his wandering eyes back up, before averting them completely and getting out of his shirt. He was by far no longer the blushing virgin, even if everybody seemed to think so. After he had grown into his body, lost his lankiness and learned he enjoyed being a tease, he prooved extensively that he was quite attractive to gay guys. But somehow Peter was still off-limits. He was pack now (which didn't make anything better), but once tried to kill him (which only made it worse), Stiles actually killed him (well, shit?) and _good god_ did he want to just suck his dick.

“All I heard was, ‘Blah blah blah, I’m an asshole’", Stiles said, crossing his arms in front of his cold chest in an attempt to find some warmth.

“And you’re staring at my crotch because..?”, the older man asked with an amused tone.

Stiles gulped as his eyes flicked up from just _above_ his crotch (thank you very much, but _when_ the fuck had he looked back down?!), his cheeks already turning red from embarrassment, because the Zombiewolf was frankly the last person who was supposed to learn of this distracting attraction towards him, only to see the wolf leering at him.

Unfortunately, that’s just how he acted in general, not something specific reserved for Stiles. He really didn’t need to give the mastermind another way to manipulate him, so he hid behind the newly flaring anger as he put an overly sweet smile on his lips.

“You know what they say about guys with big muscles?”

He paused shortly, watching Peter give him an inquiring look, who was seemingly not distracted by the compliment on the build of his body that Stiles had let slip. Sure of his win, he stepped another step forward and gestured unimpressed to Peter’s crotch, while keeping eye contact.

“Small dick”, he whispered, still smiling.

Right as he snickered at the responding growl, a strong hand grasped his wrist, pulling him in close just to press his fingers covered with the man's big hand into the damp heat between Peter’s legs. Stiles’ eyes widened momentarily in shock as he felt bare skin warm his still cold fingertips. Of course. Who needs underwear anyway, right?

While he did his best to keep his eyes from wandering down and to not die from a heart attack, Peter’s free hand grasped his chin and forced him to tilt it upwards until their eyes met. Stiles gulped against the tightness in his throat as he glanced from underneath his lashes into the mesmerizing blue, sparkling with dark heat.

“No one ever complained.”

To be honest, Stiles couldn't either.

His mouth opened and closed, still captured in the intensive stare of the werewolf that rattled something deep inside of him and made him feel raw. He shivered and did his best to convince himself that it was only from the cold cursing through his veins, because if there was more to this than lust or the craving for warmth, he was doomed to fall into the darkness at the feet of this wolf. And Stiles knew best that the wolf's shadows were endless pits of doom.

The lips so close in front of his own curled into a villainous smirk _as if he knew_ , which made his heart skip another beat.

“So that’s what it takes for you to be speechless Stiles? I will make sure to do it more often”, the older male purred.

Stiles blinked once more, then finally his mind wasn’t lost in the endlessness of steel blue anymore, pulled back by a movement underneath his fingers. If the wolf wanted to play with fire, he was in for a burn. With a smirk he tightened the grip of his long fingers around Peter’s cock until the man bared his teeth in warning with a delicious twitch of his upper lip. He preened as he leaned forward and whispered into the ear of the man.

“I’d be careful with my words if I were you _Mr. Hale_ , when _someone_ has their hand right where it hurts.”

He gave a tight squeeze and relished the choked noise that escaped the older man’s lips. No matter how much he craved to be eaten alive by Peter, he wouldn't let him play with him like a cat with a mouse. He could deal with other people closing their eyes to his nature, but he had been sure that the wolf would know. Stiles barely suppressed a noise himself when Peter hardened under his assault. Then, another smirk bloomed on his lips as the realization hit him. The ice under their feet was thin, but they both stepped unto it.

“But if you really want me to shut up Peter, I sure know of another way you can make me. You actually already suggested it.”

Stiles licked at the skin just in front of him and received another growl, accompanied by strong fingers digging into his hair, tipping his head back so he was forced to look into Peter’s eyes again. Stiles throat went dry again with lust and heat as he bared it involuntarily.

“I knew you weren’t quite as innocent as everyone believed. How wonderful.”

Before Stiles could think anything more than _Oh shit_ , their lips crashed in a burning and consuming kiss. Hungrily he clutched at the naked shoulders of the man, cold feet and wet jeans almost completely forgotten as they rubbed against each other roughly, leaving bruises and scratches in their wake. They were not pure or gentle, but they carried the beauty of tainted things, the allure of darkness.

When lastly he needed air, Stiles pulled back, the dark craving coiling low in his guts. With a smirk he admired the possessive look on Peter’s face and was pretty sure something similar to it was on his. This was not just the cold. He was in over his head, and maybe he was alright with being pulled under.

The wolf’s eyes flashed blue and their gazes locked as Stiles sank to his knees and was certain of one thing:

This man would be his doom.


End file.
